


134 Days with Gundham Tanaka

by thatredscarf



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Bad Flirting, Ballroom Dancing, Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Flirting: They don’t know what they’re doing edition, Flowers, Fluff, Gundham is a chuunibyo, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Royalty AU, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, The Devas are wolves, Vegetarian Tanaka Gundham, Witchcraft, one bed, really slow burn, the forks are a running joke now, uh ohhh Gundham’s shirtlessss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28236006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatredscarf/pseuds/thatredscarf
Summary: It only takes a fifth of a second to fall in love at first sight, but an average of 134 days for a woman to say she’s in love.-Basically, this is a Gundham x Reader fic where he’s a chuunibyo, and you’re an actual witch. This is my first ever fanfic, I hope you enjoy it!
Relationships: Tanaka Gundham/Reader
Comments: 33
Kudos: 52





	1. Zinnia

**Author's Note:**

> (Y/N) falls victim to love at first sight and blames it on flowers.
> 
> Here’s the album I listen to while writing- I would highly recommend listening while you read: https://open.spotify.com/album/1jbgx1vmWRIPEHYGIqjOHj?si=3CYDDE_rSP-BA5ruYgBJkw

“Violets, for health,” a dainty hand reaches for said flower, slim fingers gently coaxing the stem from the soil and resting it among the other blooms in the willow wicker basket.

“Lavender, for protection and longevity,” you say, but your hand falters this time. English lavender, or french lavender? After a moment of consideration, you reach for the english, it being more familiar to you.

“Passion flower, for peace and good rest,” you place the strange-looking blossom into the basket as well, careful of the wild purple tendrils.

“Zinnia...” your mind pulled a blank. What did you need this for again?

“Strength,” you nodded and said to no one in particular. It surely has other purposes, but you see no need to worry, as you doubt the groundskeepers would grow any harmful flowers within the royal garden.

“(Y/N).” 

You look up to see a smiling king, brown hair slicked back neatly and thin crown set modestly atop the royal mane. 

You dipped your head in greetings, eyes crinkling in a gentle smile.

“Father.”

Although you had only known the king as such for no more than a week, you didn’t see a reason not to call him “Father.” You had never known a father figure, so the title hadn’t much meaning to you. 

~~~

When birthed, your skin was an angry red. Not a red like roses, or blushing cheeks, but a furious, deep crimson of bloodshed and fire. Not to mention the hideous birthmark that spread across your upper back, like the devil’s wings. The doctor had thrust you into your petrified mother’s arms, the midwives gasping, for they had never laid eyes on such an irate infant.

“Take it away!” the woman had shrieked, holding her screeching child to her husband, “Cast it into the woods! Far away!” she yelped, as the very souls of the damned seemed to fly angrily out of the child’s red lips, taking the form of an otherworldly scream.

And cast into the woods you were. Among the grass, far from the only town for miles, wailing and sobbing- not in the pleasant way a newborn should, cries that should symbolize new life- but wicked, heinous howls that shook trees and rose the hackles of wolves. Your cries paused at the sound of shuffling, puffy infant eyes taking in a form reaching for you. Frail, bony hands held you close, the figure wafting off smells of warm bread and sleepy lavender, calming the angry child.

“Poor thing..” cooed the old woman, brushing her hand across your hot, now sleeping, forehead as she took you deeper into the woods.

And so spread the word of the evil witch who had taken in the demon child. In some stories it was demon child- in others it was daughter of Lucifer, or the very incarnation of the devil himself.

Though she was a witch, you recalled, no part of her was evil. She had raised you with her own frail hands, in the chilly hut in the woods you and her had called home. After one a many “Eye of Truth” spells, she had come to the conclusion you had been cursed with a hypothalamic hamartoma at birth. Although the tumor you were born with was benign, and wouldn’t grow or spread, it had latched onto your hypothalamus, a part of your brain in charge of temperature, passion, and hormone regulation.

It made sense now why you were so red, so _scorching,_ so unbelievably brimming with _ferocity,_ even as such a small child.  
Your condition had been confirmed when you had been cursed with an early puberty as well, which had also hindered you from reaching your full height. But from the beginning, your witch caretaker had known it wasn’t just your tumor that had you this way. She had sensed a certain aura, a _presence_ within you. 

That had been what brought her to raise you with magicks. She had taught you hexes and protection spells that would aid in helping your condition, cooling ones that would keep you from burning within the confines of your own skin. The hut always had the scent of lavender and allium rolling through in sweet waves, to keep you calm and aid with sleep.

Your witch caretaker had insisted you called her “Babciu.” She would chuckle and ruffle your hair.

Growing up, you hadn’t met many others besides Babciu. Of course, there was the occasional hungry traveler, who she loved to take in for the night, but they always had to leave and get on their way. A real treat would be children who had wandered too far into the dark woods, they were the only kids your age you would meet and were few and far between, always quick to rush back to their mothers. 

But you were always friends with the flowers. Wildflowers in the clearing outside your home that danced in the wind and swayed speckled with raindrops after a storm. Not only were they beautiful, but they were useful in many spells and enchantments.

Alas, good things always come to an end. As you grew older, rumors within the townsfolk became more twisted.

_Did you hear? The witch’s daughter is a succubus! Don’t let her snatch your husband!_

_Did you hear? The witch’s daughter has a hunger for children! Lock your doors, close your drapes!_

_Did you hear? The witch and her daughter are coming to take revenge on All Hallow’s Eve!_

When the lies had piqued, no child could sleep because the fear of a witch and a demon out to get them. Women had prying eyes, wary of the devil’s daughter out for their husbands. 

On All Hallow’s Eve, the men were readied with their pitchforks and torches. This is what had finally brought attention to the royal guard. The orders from the King and Queen were to venture into the woods and bring back you and the witch alive for questioning.

However, the knights had no intention of following these commands. Having also grown up with rumors of the witch, but now an added demon child, they feared for their wives and children.

You hadn’t awoken when they came marching through the peaceful woods, sending the birds flapping away in trepidation and flowers trembling in their wake. Babciu had, however, been anticipating this attack. Using the last of her power to protect you, she was slit across the throat in front of your eyes as you screamed, held back by the knights.

It was your turn to die, you presumed, but the crossbow aimed at your heart had failed to do its job. Though the arrow did pierce your chest, at a certain point it was shredded by the protection spell that Babciu had cast before her murder.

The royal guard was shocked, knowing now they _had_ to bring you back to the King now that they knew your magicks were real. 

And that was what lead you to the present moment. With the queen unable to conceive and the Royal Family in need of an heir, they decided to take you in generously, provide you with a home and safety fit for a princess. Which you suppose.. you were one now.

Apparently, taking in “The Demon Child” was “Utterly proposterous! A heinous act! Foolish, brash, unsightly decision! How will neighboring kingdoms see of this?!” like the royal advisor had sputtered before promptly passing out.

Your new parents were wary of your condition but glad to help out. They were rather concerned about your interest in the occult and magicks, and were hesitant to accept that this was what you wanted to center your life around. However, as they grew to know you more, they understood how sweet you really were. They praised Babciu for raising you so kindly, and cursed their own royal guard for murdering her. You were forever grateful towards them, and warmly referred to them as “Mother” and “Father,” which made them considerably fuzzy on the inside as well, having believed they would never have a chance to be parents.

~~~

“(Y/N),” your father repeated.

“Sorry,” you said, setting the wicker basket of flowers aside as you turned to him. “Must’ve gotten lost in thought.”

He only smiled warmly.

“No worries dear,” he seemed to hesitate, tugging on his collar a bit. “I understand you probably have a lot on your plate right now, but I would like to speak to you about your duties as a princess.”

“Of course,” you responded, patting the edge of the planter next to you.

The King sat beside you. What he said had been true, you were having a hard time this past week. Losing your Babciu, meeting your new parents, getting lost in the twisting halls of the palace without the friendly scent of lavender or warm bread to guide you, all the sounds, the lights, so many people- it was all incredibly overwhelming for a girl who had grown up lonesome in the woods.

“I want to get you enrolled in etiquette classes,” He says, placing a hand on your shoulder. You flinch a tad, not used to such touches except from Babciu. He mutters a quick apology, awkwardly drawing his hand back. You understand he’s only trying to be supportive and loving, he’s probably excited about finally having a child of his own.

“I see. I apologize if my manners have been less than acceptable as of late,” you sigh, looking at your hands in your lap. 

“No, no,” he assures you, “Your attitude has been more than pleasant. We- me and your-“ he stumbles on his words, “Me and the Queen, your mother and I, think it would be helpful to get you accustomed to your new life.”

“Most princesses grow up in royalty, born knowing which fork is for salad and which is for turkey,” he chuckles, and you rub the back of your neck sheepishly, recalling your distress at the amount of silverware during your recent meals. 

“It won’t be anything too stressful. It may be a bit.. out of your comfort zone, but it should include things like ballroom dancing, speaking patterns, poise and posture, how to speak to those of certain classes, courting...” 

It seemed like a lot to you, but you were excited by the idea of becoming one of the princesses in many of Babciu’s storybooks. You quickly calmed yourself down before you could overheat and looked back up at the King, smiling.

“I’d loved to get started soon, father. I’m excited to help out you and mother in leading this kingdom!”

~~~

You shifted nervously, adjusting the straps of your dress. Although the lower half was quite long, it was kept rather thin so your legs could still breathe, preventing you from overheating. The top was doing wonders for your condition, though. Thin straps held up the form-fitting upper half, it revealed your full arms, collarbones, and neck, but left your upper back in lace- didn’t want anyone freaking out over your birthmark.

You sat in the horse drawn carriage, your mother beside you. She was awfully excited, telling you all about her first time at etiquette classes, that’s how she met your father, you know, and oh, how he looked in his fitted suit, the blue tie, it matched his eyes!

You smiled warmly at her, listening to her speak as the carriage came to a stop. Kissing your cheek gently, she let you go and you stepped towards the tall building.

It seemed like a palace of itself, white spirals that reached up to kiss the clouds. A knight rushed over and was quick to bow, his body almost at a 90 degree angle.

“(Y/N) (L/N)!” He barked when he stood back up.

“What?!” You yelped back, a bit shocked by his volume.

His red eyes blinked, apparently not prepared for that kind of response. The raven-haired knight probably should’ve been more cautious, knowing he’d be working with princes and princesses in need of guidance.

He cleared his throat.

“You are here for Hope’s Peak Royalty Guidance School of Etiquette, are you not?”

You gulped, that was a long name. Although his aura didn’t seem malicious, his eyes were burning with a rather daunting determination.

“Possibly. Why should I disclose that to a knight such as yourself?” You look back at him, meeting his bright gaze with a total 180 from your nervousness beforehand.

He blinked, dumbfounded.

“P-Please! Follow me! I shall guide you to your class!”

He held out his arm for you to link with, as you saw a few walk past you doing so, but you shook your head and opted to walk behind him as you followed him into the tall gates of the ivory palace.

You heard some yelling behind you, and turned to see a short blonde kid yelling at a petrified-looking knight. Something about how important he was, and threatening to kill him. _Yikes,_ you thought.

You heard a cough, and turned to continue following the stiff boy waiting for you. As he guided you through the halls, you felt some of your nervousness begin to fade. You had made sure to enchant one of the zinnia blooms you had gathered yesterday, and kept it pinned to your dress front, like a brooch. You knew nothing too horrible would come your way as long as you had your protection.

Too late, you had realized you were daydreaming about flowers and you had bumped into your guide. Looking back at your surroundings, you notice he was stopped in front of what seemed like a large ballroom. You could hear soft piano and violin from the back corner of the room. You peeked in past the doorframe- there appeared to be others such as yourself. All teenagers wearing crowns of various caliber, some silver, some gold, some something else entirely, with all assortments of gems. You noticed how many of the other princesses’ dresses were large and... _poofy._ Scrunching your nose, you imagined how hot that would be.

You looked at the princes, many of them suiting of their titles, with carefully groomed hair, sparkly eyes, pearly white teeth... handsome, but none quite caught your eye. All but one. He had on a dark suit, and instead of a tie he donned a long, tattered magenta-ish scarf. His hair was styled wildly, licking into the air at the top. It was black, with a few streaks of ivory. He also possessed an impressive case of heterochromia, one eye red as a blood moon and the other gray like a wolf’s new coat. Across his gray eye was a lightning bolt-esque scar. Not only that, but he also had one of his sleeves rolled up to reveal a heavily bandaged arm. Intrigued, and need you say, attracted by the strangers appearance, you turned back to the knight, who seemed to be waiting on you to say something.

“What is your name?” you inquired.

“Kiyotaka Ishimaru! I-I’ll be your personal escort from today on regarding your classes!”

“Very well. Goodbye.” you bid him farewell, stepping into the ballroom.

 _Ah._ You looked down at the zinnia blossom pinned to your dress, only now remembering what its other properties were. _Not only do zinnia flowers aid in strength, they also symbolize love, and lust._

You frowned minutely, looking up to catch the scarf-clad stranger who had you so entranced staring right back at you.


	2. Roses & Carnations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Y/N) forgets roses have thorns, and meets a motherly figure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s chapter two! I apologize for it being a bit shorter than the first, but in my opinion it more than makes up for it in content.
> 
> In this chapter, there is a scene where it is implied the reader has a wet dream. There’s nothing nsfw enough to bump up the rating of this fic, the dream is extremely vague and nothing explicit. But if that’s really not your thing and you’d like to skip it, it comes right after Gundham says “Y-You little...”
> 
> I recommend listening to some ballroom/classical music while reading, as that’s what I listened to while I wrote.

“Slow... quick, quick. Slow... quick, quick.” The instructor’s tempo floats throughout the tall ballroom, joined by the piano, violin, and soft cello.

Your cheeks glowed red with embarrassment, having to spin in circles like an idiot. What did this have to do with being a princess anyways?

You sighed frustratedly as you tripped over your stupid fancy princess shoes for what felt like the hundredth time that night. _Should’ve brought aster instead of zinnia,_ you thought. Aster is for elegance and new beginnings, it would’ve been perfect. You frowned down at the pink blossom pinned to your dress. Stupid. How could you have forgotten the romantic properties of such a common flower?

It’s been distracting you the whole time. That scarved figure... 

You looked up from your bruised ankles to scan the room. The other heirs didn’t seem to be doing that well either. _This must be some sort of beginner’s class,_ you thought, _for stupid princes and princesses_.

Your gaze eventually found its way to the dark prince you had been eyeing before. His face was hidden in his scarf, pale skin flushed pink from what you could see of his cheeks. You could sense his nervousness and discomfort. In fact, the feeling practically suffocated you with how intense his emotions were getting. 

Your staring caused you to trip over your own feet once again, a rather loud noise echoing as you slam your shoes down to catch yourself from falling. The instructor, even the music pauses for a moment as you hesitantly stand back upright. Feeling the burn of everyone’s stares on you, you understand the appeal of a scarf to hide your face in.

Drawing their gaze away from you, the instructor then clears their throat and the music starts back up again.

You let out a breath, readjusting your dress straps in your discomfort. Your troubles with temperature regulation and behavior, plus the added embarrassment was not helping you right now. In fact, this was probably the worse your condition has felt in a while.

Calling Taka over with an unreadable expression, he helps you sit down outside. As you leave the room and go out onto the large balcony, you continue to feel eyes follow you, specifically, a certain heterochromic pair.

“A-Are you alright, Princess (Y/N)?” He looks worriedly at your glazed over eyes and heated skin.

“No,” he was stunned by your honesty, “Were you not informed of my curse prior to this meeting?”

“Curse?” he inquired, considerably concerned.

“Just... fetch me some water, edelweiss, a candle, and some mint oil.” you shoo him off as you unpin the zinnia. 

Though confused by your request, and unsure where to find such items, Kiyotaka, with the aid of the groundskeepers, had found all but the mint oil. He had opted for mint leaves instead, unable to find any sort of incense or oils other than for cooking.

He handed you the items.

“I apologize, Princess (Y/N)! I was unable to find any mint oil! I have brought you leaves instead.”

You rubbed your temples, his loud voice testing your already worn thin patience. 

“They’ll do fine,” you responded curtly.

Lighting the candle, along with the mint, you arranged the edelweiss around the base. Having the flower in your presence already made you feel better. The water was just for drinking- you took a sip to cool down.

As you held the zinnia bloom over the flames, allowing them to tickle the stem, princes and princesses began to file outside. Seems like the instructor had let them off for a break. You met eyes with the dark prince, who seemed intrigued by your small ritual, before quickly snapping your gaze away and back to the zinnia. He was the very reason you had to burn this flower, after all.

Soon, you were again entranced, watching the blossom burn and shrivel, until a deep, rumbling voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“What is this, mortal?” the dark prince spoke, suddenly behind you and a bandaged hand was reaching for the zinnia.

You yelped, surprised, and the blossom fell into the flames. _Damnit. That’ll only double the effects._ Frowning, you whipped your head around to the offending prince.

“Who’re you calling mortal, mortal!” you rebutted, standing up.

The scarved menace also stood, shocked expression quickly banished as an amused smirk painted his features.

“Mortal? Fuahahaha! I am anything but mortal! For I am the great Gundham Tanaka! Remember this name well, it belongs to the one and only Great Overlord of Ice!” 

You blinked. _Is this guy for real?_ Sure he had seemed mysterious, but there were no sorts of magicks lurking among his aura.

You chuckled, deciding to play along.

“You are a fool to believe you are of the same caliber as I, The Scorching Princess and Creation of Lucifer, (Y/N) (L/N)! Raised by the evilest of witches in only the darkest of woods, eternally cursed by the fires of pandemonium!”

Gundham was stunned by your response, possibly even a bit flustered. But if he was, it didn’t show in what he said next.

“And so it seems! Throughout my upbringing, I have heard tales of the daughter of the devil, and have trained up until this very day in hope to cross paths with you! From this moment, we are sworn enemies! The Overlord of Ice and Enchantress of Fire, doomed to clash until either answers the underworld’s mighty call and succumbs to death!” 

“Tch. Of course we are enemies. You’re not even a real warlock, on what plane of existence could we be allied?” 

That seemed to have struck a nerve within the chuunibyou.

“Y-You little...”

-

_Heat._

_Skin against skin, hands in hair. Those ring-clad fingers, gripping, stroking._

_Lips. On yours, on skin. Panting breaths, teeth and tongue._

_Clutching bandaged biceps._

_Those burning eyes, red like passion and gray like steel._

_Vulnerable. So much heat._

You wake up suddenly, in a cloudy daze. Your body snaps up quickly, almost comically, as you clutch the sheets to your chest.

...

_Shit._

You collapse back into your pillows, groaning in frustration. After your interaction with Gundham last night, you couldn’t seem to get the prince off your mind. To make it worse, it seemed the lustful properties of the zinnia were finally setting in.

Gracelessly kicking the sheets off of your sweaty legs, you got out of bed and put on your slippers. After fumbling around in the dark for a few minutes, you managed to find the matchbox you kept in your dresser drawer. You struck a match and lit the candle on your bedside table, then held it up to the grandfather clock nestled in the corner of your room.

6:17 A.M.

Too early to be out and about, but too late to go back to bed. Sighing, you opened the door leading out to the hall as it creaked in protest. Maybe a cool bath would help subdue the aching knot that pooled in your lower belly.

You did your best to fight the thoughts of Gundham plaguing your mind as your footsteps echoed throughout the dark hallway. This palace was big enough- your sleepiness and lack of direction wasn’t helping.

Each corner you turned, you were only met with more ivory gilded walls and arching ceilings, the same chandeliers every twenty feet or so.

Fortunately, the next right you took, you caught sight of red hair, along with a familiar black dress and white apron. _A maid!_ You thought. All the servants you had come across so far were friendly. Why wouldn’t they be? They were paid fairly and treated kindly by your parents. However... you were still hesitant for ask for help. As the new princess, should you not be a symbol of strength for your people?

...

Oh, whatever. You really wanted a bath. Scurrying up to the maid quickly, so you didn’t have enough time to change your mind, you tapped her on the shoulder. When she turned around, you were met with freckled skin and olive green eyes.

“Ah, Princess (Y/N)!” She bowed quickly, but not before taking both your hands in hers, “What are you doing awake so early?”

“I- um, I require assistance,” the maid gave you a warm smile, as if to encourage you to continue, “I am.. I am in need of a bath. But it seems... it seems...”

“Having trouble finding the bathhouse?” 

You nodded, thankful for her finishing your sentence.

“No worries, sweetheart. I’ll take you there,” she smiled again, letting go of your hands and starting to walk away with you on her tail, “Call me Mahiru, by the way!”

As you trailed the kind redhead through the tall hallways, you couldn’t help but admire her motherly aura. You soon reached your personal royal bathhouse, your face heating up as you realized it was only a few doors down from your own bedroom. You would’ve discovered it with ease if you had only set off in the right direction.

“How foolish of me,” you mumbled as Mahiru began to draw a bath.

Sensing your shyness, Mahiru turned away respectfully as you disrobed and sunk into the water, leaving only your collarbones and up visible, bubbles concealing the rest of your body. As you reached for the shampoo, Mahiru gently guided your hand away and grabbed it herself. 

She gave you a questioning glance, to which you reluctantly nodded and she began to work the product in to your wet scalp. The way Babciu used to. You sighed, remembering her frail but gentle fingers. Her touch was like how a fairy kissed a rose.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt Mahiru wipe your tears away. Apologizing, you looked away from her, feeling embarrassed. You hated being vulnerable.

“I understand this past week must have been very hard for you, Princess (Y/N).”

You nodded without a word.

“But you don’t have to be so tense. We want to make you feel welcomed.”

You hummed. As she put some conditioner in her palms and ran her fingers through your hair, you allowed your eyes to wander and take in the bathhouse. 

It wasn’t large and grandiose like you had expected, but more humble and personal. The walls and tiled floor were a matching very light shade of peachy-pink. Even if you weren’t the biggest fan of pink, it was a pleasing color. The bathtub you were in was white and round, with gilded feet. A vanity was planted next to the bath, with wood painted a more reddish shade of pink to compliment the walls. Upon it rested several untouched perfumes, lotions, and serums, along with a silver mirror and wooden hairbrush. Above you was another domed ceiling that you found common around the palace, hanging from it a chandelier emitting a soft light that was welcomed so early in the morning. The wall behind the tub exhibited a tall window, though its white curtains were drawn.

“Princess (Y/N),” Mahiru’s words brought you back to the present moment, “I’ll leave you to your own devices,” she bowed and opened the dark mahogany door before stepping out, “Please have a wonderful rest of your day and don’t hesitate to ask for me if you need me.”

“Much appreciated,” you responded, smiling at the kind maid before she shut the door, leaving you to finish scrubbing your skin free of your sin.

As you dried off and drained the tub, you noticed light shining through the drapes. You turned and checked the clock above the door.

7:14.

 _Breakfast is usually at eight_ , you thought, _Now’s a fair time to be up._

While going back to your room and changing, you thought of Mahiru. Although you didn’t talk much to her, you had enjoyed her presence. You found her motherly aura and faint scent of freshly baked bread and wildflowers to be quite comforting.

Pushing open your door, you smiled.

_Time for a new day!_

...

_And more etiquette lessons..._


	3. Hyacinth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Y/N) decides to keep her friends close, and her enemies closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HOLIDAYS, BELOVED READERS!
> 
> As always, I recommend listening to some ballroom/classical music while reading, as that’s what I listened to while I wrote.
> 
> As of right now, I plan to post a 1.5k - 2k word chapter every day or two, but that might change once school starts back up again. Thanks for your patience!

It’s not like you were THAT bad with directions; but living in a one-room hut for the entirety of your life didn’t prepare you for the twisting hallways and endless doors of the palace.

Which is how you ended up here.

_Is this... the kitchen?_

Still holding open the metal door, you took in the flat stone floors, cutting boards, hanging pots and pans, along with a giant stove-looking contraption.

_Definitely the kitchen._

The kitchen is close to the dining room, right? So.. you shouldn’t have to look very far. You stepped into the kitchen, walking up to the island to fiddle with an interesting-looking fork while you tried to pinpoint where you were in the castle. You usually didn’t get lost on your way to breakfast, but you must’ve made a wrong turn at some point. 

“Ah, it seems the fair (Y/N) has finally succumbed to my charms and came to visit me! I knew you’d be here soon.”

You turned around to see a short, round boy with an interesting haircut.

“Hello?”

He hurriedly walked up to you, bowing and kissing your hand passionately.

“I am the head chef. My name is Teruteru Hanamura, and make sure you remember it well, ‘cause you’ll be screaming it later,” he winked.

You tilted your head in confusion, the innuendo had flown in one ear and out the other.

“Pardon?”

As he opened his mouth, likely to drop another flirtatious comment, the kitchen doors flung open and a sporty-looking girl with blazing blue eyes stepped through them.

“Teruteru!” She shouted accusingly.

“H-Hina!” He whipped around to face her, laughing sheepishly as if he hadn’t just been caught trying to make moves on the new princess.

‘Hina’ walked past Teruteru, and bowed curtly in front of you.

“I’m Aoi Asahina, the pastry chef here! But you can call me Hina! It’s so wonderful to finally meet you, Princess (Y/N)!”

Your eyes lit up.

“P-Pastry chef? So you’re the one who makes those donuts! I eat those every morning! I love them! Thank you!” You say excitedly, to which Hina smiles proudly and Teruteru sighs wistfully, wishing it were him who received the praise.

“I’m so happy! I love making donuts, but I like eating them even more! Is there a special kind you like so I can make more?” 

Your conversation about pastries lasts several more minutes than it probably should have, until Teruteru breaks you two apart.

“Alright, alright! Politely shoo, Miss (Y/N), we have to make breakfast so you can eat it,” he huffs and ushers you towards the door, “The dining hall is just to the right. A few dozen paces and you can’t miss it.”

You smile and wave goodbye to the odd pair before following TeruTeru’s directions and making it to the dining hall, where you find your mother and father waiting for you, along with the royal advisor, who was usually there to inform your family of their duties for the day.

You weren’t listening very well to the advisor, you were to preoccupied racking your brain to remember which fork was for salads and which was for fish. But to the outside eye, you just looked like you were trying to disintegrate them using mind powers with how hard you were staring.

“...Did you catch that last bit, honey? (Y/N)?” The Queen said, looking at you from across the neatly set table.

“No,” you said honestly as you fiddled with the tablecloth and the royal advisor scoffed.

“Miss (Y/N)‘s etiquette classes are cancelled for today, as her, along with her parents, are expected to be present at the Tanaka Empire for a treaty dinner.”

You looked up curiously. _Tanaka? Treaty?_ You thought. Tanaka was a fairly common last name, surely it couldn’t be... his family.

“Tell me more,” you said, yielding your attention to the advisor.

“I’ve mentioned this dinner the past four mornings. Have you not been listening?” He sighed frustratedly.

You simply stayed quiet and continued to look at him expectantly.

With a final resigning scoff, he gave in and began to explain, “The Tanaka Empire has many wolves that are normally kept in captivity. However, as of late, those sorry mutts have been escaping and scampering over to our beloved kingdom, and attacking our livestock. One even made it into the royal stables and was killed by a horse. After discovering this, King Tanaka has requested a dinner with our highnesses to speak of a treaty regarding recent events. Attending this dinner will be you, your parents, Queen and King Tanaka, and their only son.”

_Only son, huh. So, could it be?..._

You shake the thoughts from your head. You definitely weren’t excited at the idea of Gundham. And even if you were, it was definitely only the lasting effects of that stupid zinnia blossom.

“Sounds interesting. I’ll look forward to it,” you say, to which the Queen and King let out a sigh of relief in knowing you’re happy to comply.

Servants step neatly in lines into the room, food begins to flood the table, and you stuff your face before the advisor can get in another word with you.

-

 _The castle gardens really are quite beautiful,_ you noted as you adjusted your hold on the book in your arm, and your shoes tip-tapped down the stone stairs leading to said garden. 

The garden was rather large, at least an acre or more. Though it was mostly neatly-trimmed shrubbery, there were symmetrical ponds and planters, some filled with only the finest fruits and vegetables for cooking the King’s feasts, others with flowers worthy of being braided into a fair maiden’s hair.

You walked down the stone path, the hem of your fancy sundress just barely grazing the ground. Turning past some friendly aspens, you found a grass clearing. The castle gardens here really took inspiration from nature rather than neat shrubs in a row, making it almost seem like a forest at times.

Resting your back against one of the zebra-striped trees, you opened the book and let your eyes wander over the pages, eating up the words like a starving man.

“The Crimes of Love,” was a collection of vignettes by Marquis de Sade and probably not something you should be reading, at this age. _Or something anyone should read,_ you thought, _at any age,_ as your face twisted into one of mortification. Though _Miss Henrietta Stralson, Or the Effects of Despair: An English Tale,_ was far too morbid for your usual tastes, you couldn’t help but be enamored but Henrietta’s resilience and intelligence.

Her astonishing will to prosper couldn’t help but remind you of your Babciu. You were happy now, living in a large palace with kind parents and enough food to never go hungry- but the one thing that could make everything here better it was that sweet old witch.

-

You gazed into the sight in the mirror, spinning around once more. The blood red dress suited you well- thin straps rested upon your shoulders, and the front of the dress showed off your collarbones by a graceful V. The back was nearly all exposed, the smooth expanse of skin contrasted with the crimson color. Your hair was up, with daffodils woven into it, which revealed the birthmark upon your shoulder blades. Where your birth parents were disgusted by the wing-looking splatter of darker skin spread across your upper back, you had found it in yourself to love it, and you had shyly asked the tailor to help you show it.

Now that you were dressed, and it was nearly time to head off to the Tanaka Empire, you found yourself rather nervous. What if you tripped while walking towards their castle? What if you curtsied wrongly during greeting? What if you forgot which fork was which? 

Though that last thought seemed unreasonable compared to the others, it truly was something that worried you. There may only be three forks, but they were so _similar._ How were you supposed to be calm knowing you could make such an ample fool of yourself by something as little as _using the wrong fork._

“(Y/N)?”

Well, shit. Too late to think about forks now, you suppose.

“Coming!” You responded, putting on a convincing smile- while in all honesty, you were terrified. 

As you scurried out the castle doors with your mother and into your shared carriage, your worries began to ebb a bit. It’s definitely not going to be Gundham’s kingdom. Why would it be? If you were from neighboring lands, you surely would have figured that out by now. Right?

This train of thought is what kept a cap on your anxiety. However, you knew this dinner was still going to be a challenge for you. No matter what the Tanakas may be like... _those forks._

-

Wow.

...

_Wow._

It was really the only word that filled your head. You were astonished upon seeing your own palace for the first time, but the Tanaka Empire’s was something else entirely.

The stone was dark, almost black, and all sections of the castle were big and blocky. Where yours was spiraling and dainty, this one was tough and menacing. The drawbridge was of dark wood as well, and the banners were a crimson red with a golden insignia carefully woven in.

The front two pillars, you observed, both bore large stained glass windows, murals of life and death and wolves. Perched atop each tower like hawks, were twin ballistas. Though they appeared stationary, they were loaded and looked as intimidating as a bear to a bunny.

You were guided out of your carriage alongside your mother, and lead to walk behind your father. The drawbridge groaned and creaked, almost threatening to drop you into the dark water. You wouldn’t be surprised if the moat was infested with crocodiles.

The old pine doors protested with more creaking as they were pushed open by the Tanaka Royal Guard- and as soon as they were, you were ambushed and shoved onto the ground. 

You shrieked, raising your hands to defend yourself against- licks? You opened your eyes to realize you had been tackled by four large wolves. But right now, they looked more like excited puppies. Though they were mere animals, their auras were mysterious and powerful, almost as if these were merely their temporary forms. You looked up to give your worried mother a reassuring smile, and wave off the guards in defense mode.

While you stood up and patted the pudgiest wolf’s head, you heard footsteps and a familiar rumbling voice.

“Invading Black Dragon Cham-P, Crimson Steel Elephant Maga-Z, Mirage Golden Hawk Jum-P, and Supernova Silver Fox San-D, return at once!” the voice boomed, to which you looked up and saw none other than Gundham Tanaka.

Your father huffed as the wolves glanced back at you before scurrying to their master. Behind Gundham came his parents.

“Many apologies, King (L/N)!” King Tanaka lets out in a wheeze, as if he had chased Gundham to the front door.

“These wolves are the very reason we are here in the first place, no?” You said quietly to your mother, and the Dark Prince’s eyes widened as he realized it was indeed, the Fire Enchantress whom his wolves had tackled.

As your mother nodded, you turned to meet Gundham’s gaze. The deep stare you two shared was like scorching fire and eternal ice, two passionate souls with swords to the other’s throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be all about the Treaty Dinner, and boy do I have plans...
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed or if you have any questions. I love interacting with you guys!


	4. Red Tulip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Y/N) mistakes a flower arrangement for a love confession, continues to struggle with forks, and partakes in a violent game of ‘footsie.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers!! I apologize for the 5ish days it took to push this chapter out, but with all the storms in my area, I’ve been having power outages recently. However, I think this chapter was worth the wait! It was fun to write. This chapter is sure to give you butterflies.
> 
> Yadda yadda, listen to ballroom music, blah blah blah hope you like this chapter

The Tanaka Empire’s royal dining room was grandiose, to say the least. The roof yawned high above your head, and each tall ivory wall homed a dark wood carving. Within these living murals, the polished ebony showcased depictions of great storms with lightning like rips in the inky night, menacing direwolves and graceful eagles dancing through the moonlight, engaged in battle. All inherently violent things, but the beauty and detail of such art made them appear more like a fateful clash of nature.

White pillars planted to the marble floors stood high and kissed the ceiling, which formed a pleasing dome. From the centre extended a black wrought iron chandelier, which cradled blood red candles, providing an eerie warm light.

The far corner of the large room harbored a piano, several wind and string instruments, and a conductor. Practically a personal orchestra, whose soft music reverberated throughout the magnificent chamber.

As for the actual dining table; although all chairs were gilded and adorned with snow-white cushions, they were each of equal elegance- signifying this dining room was strictly for meetings of royalty. The tablecloth was crimson like the candles, and atop it rested milky porcelain plates, along with various flower arrangements, candelabras, and far too many variations of dainty silverware for your liking.

Sat at the eastwards head of the table was King Tanaka; to his left your father, and to his right, his wife, and next to her, your mother. Further down at the westward side, you and Gundham were seated across from each other. While your parents discussed the ‘grown-up matters,’ (though it seemed more like a slightly drunken conversation between nostalgic old friends) you and the dark prince were left to ‘bond’ and ‘make memories’ as your mother had cheerfully informed you.

Gundham was dressed in a princely noir coat with slacks and boots of the same shade. The only pop of color was the plum of his trademark scarf and his discolored eyes. While he was stabbing his gaze into you like he wanted to view the contents of your very soul, your eyes lingered elsewhere. 

Your view was locked upon the flowers closest to you. In the dark glass vase stood red tulips, moss rosebuds, and dainty jonquil daffodils; tied together at the stems by a red ribbon.

Gundham opened his mouth to speak, but he was abruptly cut off by you leaning forward, grabbing the neck of the vase and thrusting it towards the self-proclaimed Emperor of Ice.

“What is this?” you asked in a sibilant whisper, as to still sound intimidating but not alert your parents.

“Flowers, you lowly fool,” Gundham chuckled, a smug expression painted on his features, though he was considerably confused that you didn’t know what flowers were.

“Imbecile!” you seethed, “Moss rosebuds! Jonquil daffodils! And... red tulips!” You punctuated each exclamation by jabbing your finger at each flower you named, and the last one with a sharp kick to Gundham’s shin, to which he hissed in a breath through clenched teeth.

“Is this a love confession?!”

The dark prince sputtered, his normally milk-white skin flushing to grow nearly as red as the flowers you were so upset about before drawing that familiar mulberry scarf over his nose and concealing his blushing face.

“W-What would make you believe such foolish things?!” He whisper-yelled back, leaning forward as well.

“All these flowers possess romantic properties! Just what are you up to?” You quipped.

“I had no knowledge of this, fiend! ‘Twas’t I who arranged the weeds!” He emphasized his point by digging the heel of his beetle-black boots of your pinky toe, the pain was amplified by your stupid tight princess shoes.

You cursed under your breath and winced, tears threatening to spring unto your eyes, but you willed them away, refusing to show weakness in front of your enemy.

You simply huffed and stomped on Gundham’s foot, but not before setting the vase back down and withdrawing properly to your seat.

But before Gundham could bark something at you, the mahogany doors flew open and in rushed elegant rows of chefs, and food was set in front of you. The music picked up in volume and vigor, to lighten the mood and accommodate for the clacking of plates and forks. Surprisingly, there was not a scrap of meat upon the table.

You looked up at your twin flame, suppressing a giggle. You weren’t the slightest bit shocked at his vegatarianism- vegetarians are crazy, and Gundham was, well... you get the point.

As the prince across from you began to shovel vegetables on his plate, you assumed you should do the same. You glanced to your mother, who was already looking at you, and she nodded in reassurance. 

Not only was the abundance of forks to choose from concerning, the amount of food you’d never even _seen_ before was an added stressor.

Gundham chuckled under his scarf at your visible distress, to which you promptly swung your foot at him- but to your surprise, he had predicted your attack and now had your leg locked between both of his. _No,_ there were definitely _not_ butterflies in your stomach. You quelled the fluttering feeling, letting out a frustrated sigh as you reached for an innocent-looking sandwich and put it on your plate. As much as you wanted to just skip the stress of having to pick out and try new foods, you couldn’t just leave your plate empty, that would be rude.

As you messed around with the sandwich in front of you, a quite evil idea wormed its way into your brain. Smiling minutely, you began to draw your leg slowly upwards from where it was smothered between Gundham’s until your foot grazed his inner thigh, causing the pale prince to choke on his bell peppers.

“W-What do you think you’re doing, fiend?” After regaining his composure, he shoved your foot away and held it hostage under his shoe.

 _Having an enemy such as Gundham has proved to be quite fun thus far,_ you admitted to yourself, laughing lightheartedly.

“Engaging in innocent banter with my mortal enemy.”

“Fine then, allow me to reciprocate,” the dark prince adjusted his tie, then dug his boot into your foot.

“Shit!” you swore, not necessarily quiet, but enough so that you weren’t heard by your parents over their laughing and clanking of cutlery.

Gundham laughed, but was cut off by his own surprised gasp as you intimately drew your shoe from his mid-calf slowly down to his ankle; then stomped your heel down on top his boot. His knee jerked up in shock, causing his silverware to jolt and your mothers to peer over. Gundham cleared his throat and looked away embarrassingly, to which the queens took a hint and returned to their conversation.

The prince’s piercing gaze returned to you. You quickly brushed off the part of you that found his ferocity attractive as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Promiscuous fiend! Stop with your trickery this instant!” He hissed, beet red as you laughed behind your hand.

“I thought you were reciprocating,” you looked into his eyes daringly, “or are you too much of a coward?”

He seemed to bite back a protest- and not one to enjoy being perceived as cowardly, Gundham accepted your challenge.

“You asked for this,” he rumbled as one black boot pinned your foot to the marbled floors, and the other quickly roamed up to your thigh.

“G-Gundham!” You squeaked, surprised by his forwardness and the intent in his eyes.

As his shoe inched ever higher up your thigh, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered frantically. You shoved your hands under the table to expel his leg from your lap, and delivered another sharp kick to his shin.

The prince let out a deep, rumbling laugh as your face reddened.

“Oh it is _on._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to leave a kudos and comment if you enjoyed or have any questions! I’d love to interact with you.
> 
> By the way, I have a question for you guys myself:
> 
> Would you be interested in eventual... smut somewhere in the future of this work?
> 
> I have no plans for it thus far, but if it’s something you guys are really interested in or looking forward to, I’ll definitely do my best to try and incorporate it.


	5. Acacia Blossom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A.K.A. The author is currently at a creative loss so they incorporate the “one bed” trope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this chapter being so short but it’s all I can really come up with right now. It’s quite butterfly-inducing, nonetheless.

“Mother! Father! Unlock this door at once!” Gundham pounded his bandaged fist on the door of his room, which you were both currently stuck inside.

In response, a slew of drunken giggles had sounded from outside. Yours and Gundham’s parents really were just old friends, using a Treaty Dinner as an excuse to drink and converse with each other.

And currently, they had found it quite hilarious to lure you and the dark prince inside his own room and lock it behind you.

“Yelling’s no use,” you confirmed, pushing past Gundham a bit as you began to fiddle with the lock.

“Why do you have a lock on the outside of a bedroom anyways?” You huffed, releasing the doorknob as your efforts emerged fruitless, and turning to look up and regard the scarved menace with a hand on your hip.

“I’ve never had a need to lock it, Lady (Y/N), for no one would dare disturb the Emperor of Ice,” the pale boy declared proudly.

You glanced around Gundham’s bedroom; now that you were locked in, it was safe to take a peek around the room you were going to be stuck in for god knows how long. It was fairly plain, with dark walls and dark floors. Dark red bedsheets snuggled into a dark wood bedframe. Dark dresser, dark nightstand, dark grandfather clock- and the list continues. The only pops of color were the various wolf portraits and figures that adorned the walls and any surface they could be sat on.

You could already feel sleep tugging at your eyelids; the treaty dinner had gone into the late hours of the night. It was getting warm, too, so you started to slip your elegant (mostly decorative; but it was still keeping you much too hot) sweater off your arms and shimmied your petticoat out from under your dress.

“W-Why are you undressing?! Have you no shame?” You looked up from where you were folding your jacket to see Gundham with his scarf pulled over his nose and eyes wide as saucers.

“Well  _ excuse  _ me, it’s not my fault your chamber is hotter than Helios himself,” you jeered.

The prince scoffed, before removing his own black overcoat.

“Anyways, mortal,” he grabbed your own neatly folded clothes and tossed them in the corner with his own, “I’m getting to bed. I’m sure you’re tired as well. You’re taking the floor.” He punctuated that last sentence with a pointed gaze in your direction.

“No way!” You scoffed, “ _ I’ll  _ be taking the bed, thank you very much, and  _ you _ , imbecile, will be sleeping on the floor.”

“Don’t think you can tell _me_ what to do in  my  room,” Gundham nearly snarled, stepping forward to stare down at you.

“Oh really? How would your mother like to open the door and see you sleeping comfortably in bed, with the poor orphan princess of her best friends curled up  _on the floor_? ” 

“That’s not my problem!” He barked out.

The glaring that ensued for a good minuteafterwards was cut short by your sigh.

“Gundham, I’m exhausted. Can we just share the bed? We can be rivals tomorrow, but right now I’m ready to pass out.”

After boring his eyes into you for a few moments more, the dark prince sighed and went to his drawer. He tossed an oversized white dress shirt in your face and stripped to only his boxers, then got under the covers on farthest side of the bed.

“Fine. A truce it is. But tomorrow, we are enemies.”

Ignoring the oxytocin that surged through your body, you slipped off your dress and on went the shirt without a word; you were scared to break the silence and ruin the moment.

As soon as you got under the red sheets, you were out like a candle in a snowstorm.

—-

Gundham woke to the last thing he expected to hear- your quiet crying. You must’ve had some terrible nightmare.

Rubbing his eyes and sitting up quietly, he turned to look at you. You were curled up in a fetal position, back facing him, as gentle sobs racked through your frame.

Now, Gundham liked to see himself as evil, but he was no  _monster_.

One hand clutching the sheets which pooled around his hips, the other reached out to lay softly on your shoulder.

You jumped at the contact, trying to curl into youself and embarrassed he had seen you in such a state.

“Hey,” Gundham rumbled, “I won’t laugh at you, fool. I too am plagued with dark visions of the night,” he attempted to comfort you.

You let out another sob and turned around, wrapping your arms around the dark prince and crying into this chest. Though shaken and blushing like a smitten teenage girl, Gundham lay one hand on the small of your back and the other threaded into your hair.

You were enemies tomorrow, but tonight you have a truce. 


End file.
